Iris
by Burning 'Til There's Dark Blue
Summary: Some things just happen. You just have to wait. Tiva. Post-Aliyah AU.
1. Pain

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS or The Goo Goo Dolls.. I don't think I own anything important.

*~*~*

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you're alive. – Iris,_ The Goo Goo Dolls

*~*~*

It's been less than a day since he last saw her.

He misses her.

He won't admit it out loud. He never does.

It's just there in the back of his mind, that feeling that she should be here, listening to his rants and explanations, watching in confusion as he says something totally unrelated to whatever they're supposed to be doing.

She would always shake her head in exasperation and go back to whatever she had been doing before.

That was the way it was.

*~*~*

It's been a week since he last saw her.

He still looks at his phone every five seconds, seeing if she's called yet. She never has.

It's atypical for her. She has called him half a dozen times in an hour to see if he's alright. The messages would get more and more angry and worried. Until he called back.

She would sigh in relief and relax.

Not a single message, not a single word. Nothing.

*~*~*

It's been a month since he last saw her.

He doesn't cry because he knows he can't.

He's only cried a few times in his life, not counting when he was a baby.

First, when he was 7, and his mother had died. The fact that he knew she would never come back had tortured him.

Second, when he was 17, and his girlfriend had been in a fatal car crash. He had seen so many girls since then it was ridiculous.

Third, when his best friend had been shot and killed on an empty rooftop by a sniper rifle. She had been 31 at the time of her death.

Fourth, when his almost-lover had died in a fiery explosion, after sacrificing herself to save him and his friends' lives.

Fifth, when his girlfriend had found out about the façade and had abandoned him. He still misses her.

Sixth, when his boss' boss died. He knows that he could have saved her had he disobeyed her direct order and followed her.

Lastly, the day his best friend and lover had put a gun to his chest in anger, after he had killed her boyfriend. She hadn't trusted him. She thought it was all a lie. Maybe it had been, but there was a moment of truth there somewhere.

It was funny how he had only cried about women.

*~*~*

It's been six months since he last saw her.

He's all but given up. She hasn't called. She probably never will.

He overhears his boss say something, something about a terrorist camp in some godforsaken African nation. And he hears nothing else.

She was an enigma. Someone so against terrorists who had killed so many because of her line of work. Because of her father.

He thinks about that orange beanie she wore all the time, the occasional splashes of color that flattered her so well. Like a rainbow.

His mind drifts to the ancient Greek goddess, Iris, the goddess of the rainbow and the messenger of the gods. For some reason, she reminds him of Iris.

He hears her name in the conversation. She's been found at the terrorist camp. She's barely alive.

*~*~*

It's been eight months since he last saw her.

Nobody has heard a word since they found out that she had been rescued.

In anger, he steps out of the car, looking for the suspect. The suspect panics at the sight of the agent and pulls out a gun. Before he can react, the suspect pulls a gun and fires. He feels sharp, warm pain as the bullet hits his arm. In pain, he falls to the ground, clutching at the wound. There is another shot, and the pain shoots across his abdomen. As it all fades to black, he sees people running, hears sirens.

And another gunshot.

He doesn't know who is hit.

In the back of the mind, he can't help but think of two things.

One, that he might never see her again.

Two, that he's seen this movie before.

*~*~*

He swears he sees her at the hospital.

Drifting in and out of consciousness in an ICU, after surgery to repair his damaged internal organs and his arm. So doped up on morphine that he can't see straight.

And he sees someone who could be her twin at the least walk past his room, never casting a glance.

He decides that it's the morphine.

*~*~*

It's been ten months since he last saw her officially.

The cast is off of his arm and his physical therapist says that he is allowed to return to work. Happily, he walks into the squadroom, where his friends all greet him in their own ways.

And then he sees her desk again.

The pain returns.

*~*~*

He finally receives that call exactly eleven months and 17 days later.

The only thing she says is sorry.

He forgives her.

*~*~*

It's been a year since he last saw her.

He sits at his desk, waiting for something interesting to happen.

The elevator dings to signal its arrival and he reflexively looks up.

She walks into the squadroom and he nearly gasps at the visible changes. Her hair, once down to her waist, now cut just above her shoulders. Paler, as if she's been inside for months. And there are scars now marring her body, visible memories of what he might never know the full story behind.

He stands up, unsure of himself. She walks back to her desk and sits down as if she's never left. Nobody says a thing, just goes back to their work somewhat reluctantly. She types on her computer, her fingers somewhat stiff, scarred from what looks like burns and cuts. She doesn't say a thing, just acts as if everything is normal again.

When she notices him staring, she sends him a glare that could melt the Arctic shelf.

He smiles, then sits down. She can take care of herself.

*~*~*

She knocks on his door.

Drowsily, he opens it, wondering who could be at his house at 2320. He sees her standing there, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. Wordlessly, he takes her hand and ushers her in. Once inside, she looks at him, searching for some inner strength. But he finds his first.

He says he's sorry.

She forgives him.

*~*~*

She tells him there's someone she wants him to meet.

He stares at her, confused.

She walks outside for a few minutes, and comes back with a pink bundle.

She tells him the baby is her daughter.

She tells him that the child is 5 months old.

He tries to do the math.

She tells him that the baby's name is Iris.

The baby girl opens her eyes at that moment, looking right at him.

Blue-green.

*~*~*

It's been a day since she came back.

And everyone has been forgiven.

His best friend, his lover, his partner in crime, his ninja.

His guardian.

His angel.

His Iris.

*~*~*

_So take these words and sing out loud, 'cause everyone is forgiven now. 'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again. – Better Days,_ The Goo Goo Dolls

*~*~*

**A/N: **I freaking love this story. I don't know why. Maybe it's the songs, maybe it's the fact that Iris is my favorite of the Greek goddesses, maybe it's the fact that it's NCIS, but I really couldn't tell you. So please review.

And I'll give you ten points if you can figure out who Iris's – the baby – father is.

But this story is here to set up my series. I hope you like it.


	2. Angel

**Disclaimer: **Nothing copyrighted is mine.

*~*~*

_The telephone fell to the counter. She heard but she couldn't believe. What kind of man would hang on that long? What kind of love that must be. – Austin, _Blake Shelton

*~*~*

It's been a day since she let him go.

She misses him.

Lying on the bottom bunk of her bed, staring at the old photo in her hands. Her, her baby sister, and her older brother, standing there smiling. Happier times.

She puts the picture down and pulls out another one, one that nobody knows she has; him, sitting at his desk, with her standing next to him, smiling as their best friend held up the camera and took a picture for no good reason.

Even happier times.

*~*~*

It's been a week since she let him go.

Something's wrong with her.

She doesn't know what it is, but she has her suspicions.

Not to mention the fact that she is currently being held hostage by several psychotic Somalian pirates who seemed to think NCIS was the U.S. version of Mossad.

Briefly, she wonders why they summarized _H__aMossad leModi'in uleTafkidim Meyuchadim_ to Mossad. So…really they're calling it the Institution.

Her mind wanders too much.

*~*~*

It's been a month since she let him go.

She's pregnant.

She's almost certain of it. And of course her tormentors don't believe her when she tells them this.

She needs to escape. She can't let this child – if there _is_ a child – be harmed due to these men's actions.

She wonders what she will name the maybe-there-maybe-not child.

And finally settles on a name.

The man comes back in and she leaps up, revealing the inexplicably untied ropes. She kicks him in the groin, causing him to double over, and then grabs the gun he was carrying, shooting him in the spine.

And then she runs.

The men catch her again.

*~*~*

It's been six months since she let him go.

Mossad and the NCIS agents in Somalia came to her rescue and she is at a Saudi Arabian hospital, being treated for both the numerous injuries she has sustained – the men tortured her less when they learned she truly _was_ pregnant, for some reason – and the fact that during her 8 months of pregnancy she received no prenatal care whatsoever, but her child is still alive.

His child. The man she let go.

*~*~*

It's been eight months since she let him go.

Her baby was born a month ago at Bethesda, a beautiful little girl, with bright, blue green eyes that cascade into scintillating ribbons, catching the light like a kaleidoscope.

She smiles, stroking her daughter's face as she walks through the ICU towards the exit.

Iris Talia.

The name fits.

*~*~*

She sees him at the ICU as she walks past, cradling her daughter. She is concerned that he is injured, but does not make it look like she notices him.

She doesn't cast a glance.

*~*~*

It's been ten months since she let him go.

She buys a new apartment, 2 bedroom, in Silver Springs.

She hangs up the few surviving photos that she has and the new ones, of a smiling, happy baby Iris.

And the only one she has from NCIS.

The only one that makes her shed a single tear.

*~*~*

It's been eleven months and seventeen days since she let him go.

She finally gets phone service for her apartment. And the first thing she does is call him.

She only gets the answering machine, and at the end, he mentions her name.

The telephone falls to the counter.

*~*~*

An hour later, she calls back.

She doesn't mention Iris, only that she is sorry.

And he says, amazingly, that he forgives her.

She hangs up the phone, smiling.

*~*~*

It's been a year since she let him go.

She walks into the squadroom, prepared for any reaction. Having just had her position reinstated as an official Special Agent - after finally becoming a citizen – there is no risk of having to return to Mossad.

He stands up when she comes in, startled.

She walks to her desk and sits down, then begins typing.

She notices his stare and glares at him. He gets the message, then sits down.

And whispers quietly that he forgives her.

*~*~*

She places the baby carrier down next to his door, out of sight, and knocks once. In a minute, he answers, looking drowsy. Apologetically, she smiles. He takes her hand and pulls her into the room.

She stares into his eyes, wondering how to tell him about Iris.

He apologizes.

She forgives him.

*~*~*

She finally figures out how to tell him.

She tells him there is someone she wants him to meet, and then rushes back outside. She picks Iris out of the carrier, wrapping the blanket haphazardly around her small daughter, and then walks back in, smiling.

She tells him all she can; that Iris is her 5-month-old daughter.

And then she tells him her baby's name, right as the little girl opens her eyes, looking startled.

She sees the recognition cross his face.

*~*~*

It's been a day since she came back.

The two adults sit on the couch, him with his arm around her shoulders, her holding the baby. Both of them, smiling down at the angel's face. The baby laughs, reaching up for her parents.

Everything is forgiven in the end.

*~*~*

_Well, remember me in ribbons an' curls. I still love you more than anything in the world... Love, your baby girl. – Baby Girl, _Sugarland

*~*~*

**A/N: **Part 2 of 4 now complete. And yes, Tony is Iris's daddy, so 10 points to those of you who guessed that.

I don't know why, but something about Iris just… it seems like she should be in the show. I don't know why.


	3. Iris

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything copyrighted.

*~*~*

_All the, small things. True care, truth brings. I'll take, one lift. Your ride, best trip. – All The Small Things,_ blink-182

*~*~*

Light.

She breaks into the light, screaming.

There are voices all around her, and she doesn't understand anything. She hears someone speaking rapidly, their voice rising above the others.

She likes that voice.

And then, after moving around from place to place against her will, she finds herself laying still, back with the voice.

She opens her eyes, cautious due to the light, and, despite the blurriness, sees a face. She doesn't know how she knows it's a face, but it is, with wide brown eyes and dark brown hair.

The face tells her that the face is her mommy. Her Ima.

The voice's face. A woman. Her Ima.

She trusts this woman.

*~*~*

Trust.

She trusts in one person and that is her Ima.

She doesn't know how her Ima keeps track of time. She herself keeps track of time by watching the shiny white light outside of the window grow and shrink, and then start to grow again.

Her Ima says it's the moon. And that the moon watches the world to take care of everyone on it. It sits there and does its work, changing each day. Her Ima sits there, holding her, both of them watching the moon.

The moon has grown and shrank once already.

She knows it will do the same thing again.

She trusts the moon.

*~*~*

Music.

It's always around her.

She listens as her Ima plays her new piano, her fingers flying over the keys. How is she supposed to sleep with the music only yards away?

She wants to play the piano. Like her Ima, and have her hands fly over the keys.

Her Ima always has music. She sings, too, when she thinks nobody is listening to her.

Her Ima is a good singer.

She likes her Ima's singing.

*~*~*

Noise.

There is too much of it here.

Her Ima tells her that soon they will have a new apartment and it will be quieter there. Then she will be able to sleep.

It's not that the noise is a bad thing, it's that too much of it gives her a headache. There's always noise in this building. Shouting and crying and mechanical noises. Things that she should be used to by now. The moon has changed twice since she first noticed it.

She can't sleep with the noise so she tries to drown it out with her own crying. And her Ima always comes, always comforts her, until she can sleep.

Her Ima doesn't always speak one language. Her voice changes in cadence, switching to half a dozen different languages.

Languages aren't noise.

She wants to learn the languages.

*~*~*

Darkness.

She doesn't know why there is darkness.

But without darkness there wouldn't be the moon. And the moon is nice because it makes everything look white. Or blue. She can't tell.

However, bad things happen in the dark. There are more of the strange noises from around the building, and more noise outside, and bugs. Bugs are disgusting and they shouldn't be in her room.

Her Ima tells her that once they have a new apartment there won't be any bugs and if there is that she will personally kill them.

And then the bugs will be dead and they won't hurt anyone.

She doesn't know what being dead is.

Is it like sleeping?

Being dead happens in the darkness, apparently.

*~*~*

Sunrise.

The sunrise makes things look pretty.

When the sun rises, the buildings all look orange and pink and the birds come out and everything seems quiet for a minute. And then people start rushing all over the place and the noise comes back and nothing looks pretty anymore.

But when it rises the room smells good because her Ima is cooking something in the other room. Pop-tarts, she thinks they're called. And then the room smells like strawberries and it makes her want to be able to eat the same thing.

And then her Ima comes into the room and picks her up and smiles. And all is nice form a moment.

*~*~*

Change.

They're in a new building.

And the new building is nice and there are no bugs and her Ima seems happy for once, putting up pictures on the wall.

She doesn't recognize the faces in the pictures, but her Ima walks around, pointing to each face and telling her who they are. She tries to remember the names but they don't stay in her head like languages do.

Her Ima smiles and then takes her to the bedroom. The bedroom is nice. There are toys and pretty pictures everywhere. She likes the bedroom.

She likes the change.

*~*~*

Voices.

Her Ima is talking on the phone to someone and she doesn't know whom.

She can hear the other person on the phone. But not well.

Her Ima says sorry. She doesn't know why. What did her Ima do wrong?

She is worried about the voices.

*~*~*

Work.

Her Ima says that she is going to work at the place where she used to and that she is going to stay with The Neighbors.

The Neighbors are four people: a man, a woman, a younger woman, and a younger man. They are always nice and happy and always take care of her. They have sculptures of crosses and angels all around their house and have a habit of praying every so often.

Ima says that they moved from a place called Mexico City and that they are Catholic.

And that they will not hurt her.

She stays with The Neighbors and they are nice to her. They take care of her and let her sleep and sing to her in Spanish.

So _this_ is why her Ima goes to work.

*~*~*

Nighttime.

Her Ima and her are in a car, driving. She doesn't know where and her Ima hasn't told her. But she trusts her Ima.

They stop at another building. Her Ima gets out of the car and walks over to the backseat, then opens the door and takes out her carrier seat. Not saying anything, she closes the door and begins walking towards the building.

They are moving, up, and her Ima stops, and then puts the carrier seat down. Her Ima knocks on the door, and then it opens and suddenly she is alone.

She hears voices. Apologies.

And then her Ima comes back out, picks her up and leaves the carrier seat outside, and walks back into the warmth. She closes her eyes against the light and hears her Ima talking.

She hears her name and opens her eyes to see her Ima's loving face and a bewildered other face, a man's face, and she watches in confusion as the recognition crosses the man's face.

She trusts this man.

*~*~*

Ima tells her the next morning that the man is her Aba. And now her Ima is sitting on a couch, holding her, and her Aba is sitting next to them, smiling.

She trusts them.

*~*~*

_You calm the storms, and you give me rest. You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall. – Everything, _Lifehouse

*~*~*

**A/N**: I wanted to write what Iris was seeing. She just… I love her and her innocence. Iris has taken over my mind. And she speaks in possessively about Ziva, and… I love her. She's awesome.

Part 3 of 4 done.

Dictionary time! Ima – mother in Hebrew. Aba – father in Hebrew.

But you knew that. Probably.


	4. Name

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything copyrighted. And having over 2100 songs on iTunes doesn't count.

*~*~*

_In violent times you shouldn't have to sell your soul. In black and white, they really, really ought to know. Those one-track minds that took you for a working boy, kiss them goodbye. You shouldn't have to jump for joy. – Shout,_ Tears For Fears

*~*~*

There are five things in the world that they can't live without.

They are sitting together at a restaurant, an apparently average family. And they're trying to think of all these things.

The woman is young, late twenties or early thirties, with short brown hair, dark eyes, and an olive complexion. She reacts to the slightest sounds, jumping slightly. There is an engagement ring on her left hand, a beautiful diamond. It stands out against the scars on her hand, but she doesn't notice them.

The man is older, with light brown hair, blue green eyes, and somewhat tanned skin. He smiles, holding his fiancée's hand protectively, and laughs when she jumps again when a customer walks into the store. His hands are scarred too, but for different reasons than hers, and for that he is thankful.

The baby girl is only about a year old, with short, curly dark brown hair, her father's blue green eyes, and a fainter version of her mother's skin tone. She laughs at her parents' behavior, unable to express her amusement in words.

They have been like this, a seemingly perfect family, for seven months.

For those five reasons.

*~*~*

_Music._

He walks through the apartment, listening to his iPod on full blast and singing along to Frank Sinatra, not paying any attention. Unfortunately, he closes his eyes just as he turns where he thinks is the doorway to the living room.

When he runs into the wall, he is forced to stop singing and open his eyes, then look up at his laughing fiancée and daughter, the older of the two sitting by the piano, her fingers resting on the keys. Embarrassed, he walks away, muttering about how you can't run into a wall when you play the piano.

*~*~*

_Family._

She sits at her desk, looking at the picture on her desk, of her, her daughter, and her fiancée, at a photo studio, dressed up in the most formal clothes they could find. They look perfect, as if it should have always been that way.

She looks up at the sound of laughter, to see her surrogate family entertaining the seven-month-old girl. The boss, the two medical examiners, the computer expert and the forensic scientist. Such a strange collection of people, and yet they're her family. She casts a glance at her fiancée, smiling. This is how it should be.

*~*~*

_Hope._

She paces back and forth in the living room, carrying her baby girl, praying in silent, quick Hebrew, her cell phone in one hand and the TV turned on to the news. A shoot out, NCIS agents involved, no word on whether he was involved or if anyone she knows has been harmed. She is hoping with all of her heart that it isn't him.

Her phone rings and she answers on the first ring.

It's him. He's safe. So is everyone else. Superficial wounds, but that's all. Hope paid off.

*~*~*

_Trust._

He stands paralyzed at the door to the car, unsure of whether he should really be riding in it with his fiancée, whose license he is still questioning. She leans on the other side of the car, with a raised eyebrow, unsure of why riding in the car is so terrifying.

He looks at her chocolate brown eyes, panic evident in his own, and decides that he needs to trust her. Nervously, he gets into the car. She laughs and gets into the driver's seat, and drives at a semi-reasonable speed to their work, only violating a few traffic laws.

*~*~*

_Patience._

He sits on the couch in the living room, holding his somewhat confused daughter, and watching his furious fiancée pace back and forth, shouting on her cell phone in rapid Hebrew. He doesn't know why she's angry, but the conversation has been going on for fifteen minutes now. So here he is, waiting for the conversation to finish so that they can go to work.

She hangs up the phone, cursing to herself, and looks at him. He is still sitting there, calm and patient as ever. She smiles, laughing internally at the completely calm expression on his face.

*~*~*

The family sits in the restaurant, laughing at each other's stupid comments. The little girl points to the food on the table, babbling, trying to form words. Her parents look at her, laughing, until her wordless babbling finally becomes coherent.

"Ima." The child states, smiling up at her parents.

Her mother pulls her close, hugging her, laughing in joy.

Time pays off in the end.

*~*~*

_And even though the moment passed me by, I still can't turn away. Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose got tossed along the way. And letters that you never meant to send get lost or thrown away. – Name, _The Goo Goo Dolls

*~*~*

_Baby's black balloon makes her fly. I almost fell into that hole in your life. And you're not thinking about tomorrow 'cause you were the same as me but on your knees. – Black Balloon, _The Goo Goo Dolls

*~*~*

_Fin._

*~*~*

**A/N: **This was a surprisingly difficult story to write. I don't know why. I still feel like Iris should be in the show. Anyway, sooner or later I'll start my series. Hope you liked this, um… somewhat long prologue/introduction type story.

Andio. (It's Greek for goodbye)


End file.
